Sounds Like Paradise
by RequiemForTheWolves
Summary: But it feels simple/ feels like enough/ feels like forever./ They are but youths/ and the world is their oyster/ and they have nothing but time.
1. One

**So, I needed a place where I could dump all of the Dead Poets Society/Anderperry poetry that I've been writing, and because like most writers I have a compulsive need to share my work, I figured the best place would be here. So, I hope at least someone out there will enjoy all of the fluff and angst that I'm going to drop off here as result of school being entirely too boring, and the teachers not stopping me because they think I'm being productive when I'm really not.**

**I'm gonna go ahead and mark this as complete, because each poem will be complete in itself, but I'll probably be posting new stuff for a while.**

* * *

The bed next to him will always be empty.

.

He can stand on his desk and cause a fuss

Or take walks out to the old cave

and recite poetry 'till he's blue in the face

Scream it as it echoes off the stone walls.

.

He can turn in all his assignments on time

Or spend his nights crying awake

and his days dreaming of a better future

and behind closed eyelids will his best friend back into existence.

.

He can write line after line of poetry

Rip it all up and throw it away

Pace his room as the words won't come

Because all he can hear in his head is Shakespeare recited in that beloved voice

And kick at his trunk 'till his foot is blue because it never used to be the writing that was the problem.

.

He can write lines and lines and lines of poetry

and cry and cry

And stuff all of the sheets under his mattress because they're not going anywhere

Not getting read anymore because his voice burned out with that faithful plea for

"Oh Captain, my Captain!"

.

But the bed next to him will always be empty.


	2. Two

Todd is glad

he never saw the body.

It would have been a closed casket anyway.

No one wants to see

the exit hole

of a bullet

through a boy's head.

That's not what he cares about though.

He cares about the eyes,

large

brown

doe eyes,

the windows to the soul.

He'd seen Neil's soul

that night

with stage lights shining in his eyes.

True happiness

reflected in brown orbs

lighting up the world.

Or Todd's world

at least.

.

There was another time

when he'd seen Neil's soul

reflected in moonlight

coming from the window.

They'd been talking

in hushed voices,

buried deep

in Neil's covers.

Bare skin

on bare skin,

his smile had lit up the night.

Soft touches

whispered words

the happiness had been pure,

even tangible.

But that night

was never talked about

outside of the two.

Now,

it's not talked about at all.

.

Todd is glad-

or would be

if he could-

that he was not invited to the funeral.

He's "glad"

that the last time he saw Neil

he was shining with light

and life.

If he were to see him

in death

with eyes glazed over,

he would surely lose his mind.


	3. Three

The thing about

Neil and Todd

Todd and Neil

is that it's simple.

Of course,

it's not actually simple,

not really,

in 50 years it could be

but in their time

with their parents

at their school

it's not.

.

It looks simple though

feels simple

and that's all they really need.

It's running lines during free time

and sitting together at lunch

and passing notes during chemistry.

It's sitting next to one another at meetings

reading lines over the other's shoulder

huddling together during cold winter nights when they should be asleep.

It's curling towards each other like parenthesis

heads close together with whispered words

so obvious to some

if they know how to look.

It's words murmured in the dark

a bed too small for boys so large

and a trust that so few in their lives posses.

.

It's not simple,

not with the hiding

with the secrets

with the lies.

But it feels simple

feels like enough

feels like forever.

They are but youths

and the world is their oyster-

at least some times,

for some things-

and they have nothing but time.

So things like simple

like enough

like forever

sound to them like paradise.


	4. Four

They're reading Romeo and Juliet

in an all boys school,

you can see how this wouldn't go well.

Keating had assured them

'boys played girls in Elizabethan times'

but that doesn't make it better

especially when Todd is Juliet.

He'd been elected jokingly,

picked on by the boys

about his chemistry with Neil

when they were Hamlet and Horatio.

His cheeks are scarlet

palms sweaty

but Neil's smile

makes the tension in his shoulders ease.

Knox makes it better too

with his rendition of Mrs. Capulet

and Charlie as the nurse.

.

The balcony scene is the worst

and the best

Todd can't quite decide.

He's standing on the desk

in view of everyone

his text book in his arms.

Neil is below him

positioned on the ground

with eyes that gaze up at him

filled with mirth.

The boys don't laugh

at Todd's stutter.

Not because they're nice,

but because Charlie threatened to knock out teeth.

At first

his face stays red

tongue stumbling over words

it has known for years.

Keating tells him to speak up

that Shakespeare should be shouted

to say the words like they're truth.

They are truth

in a way

but that doesn't really help.

He's already waxed poetic about Neil

just in his own words

not someone else's,

but those are never supposed to be read.

.

Things change

when Neil starts reading.

He was born to act

and attention reverts to him.

Where Todd was monotone

Neil has feeling

Neil has longing

Neil has joy.

Neil isn't just speaking truth

he is truth

he embodies it

shining through any lies that Todd has ever been told.

He believes every word he says

and then some.

He is amazing-

but Todd already knew that-.

.

When it's his turn to speak again

he hardly stutters

too busy being enraptured

by everything his friend has said.

Their eyes meet

in the confrontation

and during the declaration of love

Todd could have wept

with the truth in his friend's eyes.


	5. Five

Moonlight Kisses

are Todd's favorite thing.

He's written a poem about them

one that Neil stole

and read

but now it's stuffed inside the notebook hidden under his bed.

.

There's something about Moonlight Kisses

something different

something magic.

He expects Neil to think he's silly

to laugh at his fanciful ideas

but he doesn't.

Instead he smiles

bright

and blinding

so far out shining the moon

and says,

"Aren't they?"

He speaks his ideas so rarely

it's nice to have them agreed with.

But the other boy doesn't stop there

no

instead he jumps upon his bed

standing so that he towers more than usual

drawing all attention in the room-

except Todd's the only one in the room

and Neil always has Todd's attention

but he would have

had there been others-.

.

His impromptu poetry starts off well,

lamenting on the moon and its magic

the romance of the night

but he soon loses steam.

Todd is the true poet after all

and he calls upon him for lines

as he would when they rehearse a play.

He offers

as best he can

and every line Neil repeats back,

adding such emotion to his words

Todd almost forgets they're his own.

He talks about romance

about magic

about seduction

and Neil parrots it back

giving the words life

setting them free in the room

weighing down the air with them

till the atmosphere is heady

and thick.

.

When they're done

and the words have run out

they remain in the air

infecting the boys

with their implications.

Neil sits

Todd joins him

almost against his own will

the gravity between them too strong

any resistance futile.

That night

there are an abundance

of Moonlight Kisses.


	6. Six

He had never been good at

speaking.

Public or otherwise.

His words stumbled

and tripped

falling over themselves

like a wobbly toddler

still too young to stand.

When attention was on him

his palms would sweat

his mouth would dry

and he would feel inadequate

unable to master

this basic human skill.

.

Neil had made it better

easier

less like something

that would swallow him whole.

With Neil

words had been easy

flowed freely

he had an abundance of them

and the ability to share.

He was a poet.

He never would have guessed

he was a wordsmith,

that people would enjoy

what he had to share.

Public speaking

would never be the easiest

but with Neil

he could say anything.

Todd thought it would last forever

that he had been fixed

but then Neil was gone.

.

Speaking

was harder than ever.

He tripped

and stumbled

over his words

like a toddler would their feet.

Either that

or they wouldn't come at all.

He was silent

mute

and inadequate.

He had words

important words

words with feelings

and knowledge

and fear.

He could put them on paper

but never correctly

never the way he wanted

so he just stopped trying.

.

The words were building up though

collecting on his tongue

in his mouth

down his throat

crowding his head.

They accumulated

became something else

beast like

a monster.

One day

they would eat him alive.


	7. Seven

Todd's foot was down.

Not that it mattered

ever

when it came to Neil.

Brown eyes

dimples

and an uneven grin

would always be his weakness.

"We can't afford a cat."

was a weak dispute

anyway.

.

"We can spare

a little milk

now and then."

It was the neighborhood cat

after all.

She showed up

every few days

small and black

sneaking through the window

they left open for the breeze.

No tags

just a quiet meow

you could only catch

if you were really listening.

.

She tolerated Todd

but she adored Neil

would curl up at his side

as he read.

Sometimes

if Todd was quiet

in his approach

he could catch the man

reading aloud

to the cat curled up

in his lap.

When he would practice lines

pacing back and forth

she would sit on the couch

a dutiful audience

green eyes following

his restless movements.

.

Finally

with some persuasion

Todd gave in.

That Christmas

she'd gotten tags

and a light pink collar.

Jokingly

they'd named their little drifter

Nuwanda.


	8. Eight

Todd and Neil

are that couple

who have been together forever.

No one questions it

because it's always been

always will be

it is life

and normalcy

and intertwined hands

as they walk down school halls.

One does not see

Todd without Neil

or Neil without Todd

and when one does

it's right to be worried.

.

It's a shock then

when Neil is gone.

To see Todd

in the hallways

alone

with hands empty.

To see the desk

next to his

vacant,

partner work

now a solo act.

He's an island

that though once grounded

is drifting farther out to sea.

He's lost his anchor

his earth

his sun

his blue blue sky.

He's lost his words

his poetry

any and all

shy smiles.

.

Sometimes

if you look close enough

you can see his left hand

curled into a fist

trying to grasp

what slipped through his fingers

like sand.


	9. Nine

Neil gives you heart palpitations.

It's going to kill you one day

you know it.

But then

death by Neil

doesn't seem all that bad.

.

There's the ridiculous ideas

plans he gets into his head

and won't let go.

Sneaking out

causing trouble

taking risks,

all things you

had never considered before.

When he steals your writing

and your heart leaps

because no

he can't read that

it's about him,

and though it doesn't say

you're sure he'll know.

He doesn't though

he smiles

and says it's beautiful

once you've chased him around the room

trying to get it back.

.

There are other things

too.

Simple things.

Things like smiles

that take your breath away

as blinding

as the sun.

There are touches

that make your breathing hitch

a point of warmth

on your cold skin.

There are words

that make your heart stop

declarations

so rash

so sudden

you never see them coming

and they make you stop

and stare.

.

He'll be the death of you

one day,

but you'll enjoy

every minute.


	10. Ten

Your hands are empty

and it's odd.

You're used to long digits

held in your own

softer than yours

due to soccer

instead of rowing.

You try to fill them

with other things

like pens

and rulers

and notebooks.

None of them are the same

though,

they're not soft skin

between your fingers

thumb running

along your own

patterns

being traced

into your palm

like constellations.

.

You held a girl's hand

once,

but it was different.

While her digits were short

his were long.

Her's smelled of cherry

and lilac,

his retained graphite

and old paper.

Her's stayed limp

in your hand,

his gripped back

tight

and unyielding.

Her's were wet

with sweat

and lotion,

his were dry

to the point that

in the winter

they cracked at the knuckles.

.

You wish you had

those hands

with you now.

That those

cracked knuckles

were against your cheeks

catching your tears

as they fell.

If you want

hard enough

you can feel the ghost

of those fingers

running along your skin

soothing

your breaking heart.


	11. Eleven

Oh!

How sad.

These tears running down his cheeks

staining his bedsheets

with salt

wetting his papers

with sorrow

leaking through his fingers

when he hides his face in shame

and grief.

.

Oh!

Such pain.

These feelings

burdened on those so young

punches to the gut

each time they wake

no sun

to brighten their mornings.

.

Oh!

Such grief.

Tangled in all souls

with the loss of one so young

just some

more than others

just a few

with no cure to their wounds

just one

sworn off all others

irrevocably changed

by childhood trauma

wounded too deep

to be treated by human hands.

.

Oh!

How true.

These moments of silence

these broken hallelujahs

found in choked sobs

in shaking hands

in wavering voice

and violent stands.

.

Oh!

These sweet good-byes

whispered in the pauses

that space between breath

where wishes are too true

to grant any earthly gratification.


End file.
